I had a reasonably good time at the 20th class reunion. It's amazing how many people look like they're fifty years old already.
Some guy kept talking to me about how much I helped him in school, about working with him at the supermarket, and about my '78 Chrysler Cordoba. I had no idea who he was, even after reading his name tag.
Drinking one Coors Light is drinking too many Coors Lights, and I drank seven or eight of them before switching to Cabernet Sauvignon and then buying a Guiness at the after party. Oooh, I had a rough Sunday morning.